I had a friend Dómina who from time to time would give me tests. Her favorite (and one of mine, no point in lying) was the one with the dressing rooms.

She would pass me the address of a store, a date, and a "marker" that made me easily recognizable, which could be anything from an article of clothing to an accessory.

At the same time, she would pass on the same information to friends or strangers from forums interested in meeting me.

On the designated day, I had to go to the store, take a walk, making myself visible and choosing random clothes, go to the dressing rooms, leave the curtain "accidentally" ajar, undress, hang a little sign on the wall indicating that I gave permission to be photographed and recorded, put a bandage on my eyes (slightly translucent, which only allowed me to see blurry shapes, for safety) and masturbate until I received a message or call from her.

Sometimes no one would show up, sometimes they would just come to look, others would take pictures or record me, and the boldest would enter to touch themselves and touch me.

The only rule I had was not to abort my mission unless my physical integrity was at risk (or the police came to evict me...). Everything else was allowed.

Days later, I would usually meet up with my friend so she could show me the photos and videos that had been taken of me and where they had been published.

The bad thing was when she would tell me that she hadn't met up with anyone, but I had had spectators. I never knew if she was messing with me or if it was true, but in any case, thinking about it coldly... what's bad about it? As if the material the others had was safe and sound or shared, if at all, in a small committee.